


Sweets

by everyredqueen



Category: Kuroko no Basuke | Kuroko's Basketball
Genre: Fluff, M/M, Prompt Fill
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-04-19
Updated: 2014-04-19
Packaged: 2018-01-20 01:32:38
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,494
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1491841
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/everyredqueen/pseuds/everyredqueen
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“Here,” is the first thing that Kuroko says when Kagami opens the door to him, a box thrust into his chest.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Sweets

**Author's Note:**

> I'm doing some dribbles based on random prompts and pairings on tumblr, and since this ended up being really damn long I thought I'd crosspost. It ended up having very little to do with 'sweets' and just got kind of self-indulgent but whatever. I'm so rusty at writing it's untrue, but enjoy.

“Here,” is the first thing that Kuroko says when Kagami opens the door to him, a box thrust into his chest.

He looks down at it, the smallish, squarish box held between Kuroko's hands, and he squints as if expecting some kind of bomb inside it – despite it being white and made of thin cardboard – before looking back at the other with a twitching brow.

“Get inside, you idiot.”

Taking the box from Kuroko, Kagami steps back, allowing the other into the footwell. Kuroko shuts the door behind him, bows his head and does his usual routine of 'excuse me for intruding' before he takes his shoes off, while Kagami tips the box over in his hands, hearing something inside move and becoming ever more curious.

“What is it?” he asks, the American in him shining through full-force as he waits to know what it is before profusely thanking the giver – which, being Kuroko, means it could be anything.

“My grandmother said I can't keep coming over without a gift,” Kuroko says, stepping into the hall proper in his socked feet, sneakers left neatly side by side. “So she sent me with these.”

“Yes, but---” Kagami cuts himself off to grind his teeth – typical Kuroko answer which didn't actually answer anything. “But what actually is it.”

“Are we going inside, Kagami?” Kuroko stands and looks at him, bag strap held over one shoulder. It's the weekend, but there's still homework to be finished, and even though neither could really help the other that much – unless it was Kuroko helping Kagami with his godawful kanji – it was nicer to struggle together than struggle alone. 

The taller lets out a noise of frustration before turning on his heel and leading inside.

“Thanks to your grandma then, I guess.” 

Kagami walks back into the open space of his apartment, setting the box down on the low table that his workbooks were already strewn across.

“I will tell her you were grateful.” Kuroko kneels down on the opposite side, pushing Kagami's books across the surface so as to make room for his own.

“Yeah, well, we'll see,” Kagami mutters under his breath. “I made shake this morning, you want some?” Frankly, he needs something high caffeine and high sugar and high everything else that would keep him awake for the next two hours, but Kuroko couldn't handle carbonated drinks, so his loss.

“Is it vanilla?” comes the reply as Kagami moves around into the kitchen, pulling open the fridge to get things out.

“No.”

“Yes, please regardless.”

“Why did you even ask if you were going to say yes anyway?” Kagami gets a glass, and pours from the beaker of milkshake he'd made earlier. 

Why did you even ask if he wanted any when you knew he'd say yes anyway? Kagami thinks to himself blithely, putting away the beaker, and grabbing a bottle of cola for himself. He doesn't need a glass, it just means more washing up later.

“I wanted to know just how much I should look forward to it.”

“Well, it's strawberry, sorry to disappoint.” 

Kagami shuts the fridge door with his foot as he passes it heading back into the main room. Kuroko looks up at him with that same blank expression as ever as he sets down the drinks on part of the table that wasn't covered by books, before glancing at the glass.

“Nothing Kagami makes ever disappoints,” he says, allowing his gaze to travel to the other as he flops down in a pile opposite.

“Shuddup,” is the answer from somewhere on the floor.

“Thank you.”

The quiet sound of Kuroko shuffling in position is the only thing to disturb the air during the time it takes before Kagami wills himself into a sitting position to face the homework on the table. The glass has moved to the other side of the table, a third of its contents already gone, which by Kuroko standards is pretty quick – he has a pencil in his hand, and is already part way through a worksheet, book open in front of him as he reads, trying hard to comprehend. Kagami watches him for a good moment, wondering how someone who actually tries can still do so plainly average on tests. At least Kagami has a reason for doing badly – though to be fair, he still does a lot worse than Kuroko.

“It's very good, as expected,” Kuroko says without lifting his head, obviously having waited till Kagami was back in the room to say so. 

“It's not exactly difficult to make,” is all Kagami can return, shrugging off the compliment like a piece of lint. Without thinking, he reaches for the box – another distraction – and lifts it in front of him, scrutinising it, tilting it one way and another.

“You could open it, you know.”

Kagami's eyes flicker past said box, onto the other, but all he sees still is a bowed head and a mop of hair. 

“I'm getting there, all right?” he grumbles, setting it down again and pulling open the lid to reveal a neat pile of sweets.

“Mochi?” All Kagami sees are the neat rows that clearly run in the Kuroko family.

“Daifuku,” Kuroko corrects, finally looking up from his work.

“Did your grandma make these?” Kagami asks, awed, picking one up and feeling the soft dough coated in confectioner's sugar between his fingers.

“Yes. She says it shows your gratitude more if you bring a gift you have made yourself. Or at least,” Kuroko sighs faintly, “tried to help at making, in my case. Still, my grandmother is grateful for your hospitality towards me.”

Kagami can feel embarrassment rising behind his skin like an itch he'd never be able to reach, and his back straightens violently quickly as he drops the daifuku back into the box.

“Am I supposed to make tea to go with this?” he blurts out. “You should have said something!”

“It isn't a necessity, Kagami, not in this situation.”

The moment passes, and a quiet sets back in between them, Kuroko lowering his head over his work again, the scratching of his pencil on paper resuming. Kagami picks up the abandoned daifuku he'd dropped and brings it to his face – it smells good, and tastes even better when he bites half of it off. 

If only Kuroko could cook like this, he thinks as the stuff melts over his tongue. Embarrassment surges through him again at the domesticity of the thought, and he nearly chokes on his mouthful, causing Kuroko to glance up. To cover, Kagami picks up the box and thrusts it in Kuroko's face with an awkward 'here!' sputtered out as he tries to swallow.

“Thank you,” Kuroko says, taking one politely and watching Kagami's face carefully.

Shoving the rest into his mouth, Kagami sets the box back down and picks up his own pencil, pushing through pieces of paper looking for the same one Kuroko is completing. 

“You do like sweets, don't you,” the other asks, still watching, “Kagami?”

Kagami clears his throat, voice returning to normal.

“Yeah, sometimes. Not as much as you though.”

“Not as much as Murasakibara,” Kuroko adds.

“Who cares about that guy?” 

Kuroko nods, conceding, setting the daifuku in his hand down gently next to his glass. He'll no doubt get to it in due time, and take the customary half an hour to eat it and then say he's full. Kagami is so busy watching the daifuku set by the glass and thinking the thoughts that tried to comprehend Kuroko's bird-like eating habits he doesn't even notice Kuroko leaning across the table and setting a kiss on the corner of his mouth. Kagami startles, almost headbutting the other and injuring both of them, but manages to stop himself from reacting too explosively with a sharp inhalation. 

“What're you doing?!” 

“Still not used to that, are you?”

“What do you think!” Kagami breathes out raggedly, only to find Kuroko's mouth covering his own, and the next word trying to escape him turning into a muffled sound, stalling in his sealed mouth. 

He gives in to the powdered sugar on Kuroko's fingers touching his cheek, and the fading taste of milkshake on his lips, pressing against his own once, twice, thrice. Kagami realises he's closed his eyes, when Kuroko finally breaks away and sits back down, and his eyelids flutter open.   
“You never did say hello,” Kuroko says as flatly as ever.

Kagami feels his face heating up, and it takes all his willpower not to lean across the table and smack the other.

“Neither did you, you bastard,” he grumbles weakly, lips tingling.

He knows Kuroko is hiding a smile when the other bows his head over his work, but he doesn't say anything, and rather, hunches over himself, trying to concentrate with a now reeling head. He might not be overly keen on sweets, but that, just then, is one that he could get dangerously addicted to.


End file.
